


Bittersweet

by kuro



Category: Marvel 616, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 616/MCU crossover, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, I'm really not sure how to tag this, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-08
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-02-03 22:15:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1758317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuro/pseuds/kuro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>616 Tony ends up in the MCU universe. Shenanigans and angst ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bittersweet (Like Coffee)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Qouinette](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Qouinette/gifts).



> This was a prompt from the lovely qouinette over on tumblr. <3

Tony wakes up in a bad mood. He feels like shit, and the few hours of sleep he got tonight didn’t really help to get him feeling any less exhausted than he had felt before. Coffee. He needs coffee now, an unhealthy amount of coffee, right in his veins. Or maybe not. The taste is also very important.

So he shuffles out of his bedroom and into the kitchen, bleary-eyed and not really paying attention, with only one thing on his mind: _coffee_.

“Good morning,” comes an amused voice to his right and Tony startles a little. He hadn’t realised there had been someone else in the kitchen with him.

“Still here, you bastard?” he asks, glaring at the intruder.

“Still here,” the person-who-says-he’s-also-Tony-from-a-different-universe confirms, smirking at him and taking another sip of coffee from _Tony’s favourite coffee mug_. “It’s good to see that we have the appreciation of good coffee in common, at least.”

“That’s my favourite mug!” Tony shouts and tries to wrestle the mug out of other-Tony’s hands.

“What, this hideous thing?” other-Tony asks, quickly moving the mug out of Tony’s reach and wiggling it enticingly. “It’s not only tremendously ugly, it’s also _cheap_.”

“Why are using it, then?” Tony angrily demands to know, grabbing other-Tony’s arm with little success. Other-Tony is laughing by now and holds the coffee mug high up out of Tony’s reach.

"Jump, little frog, jump," he teases him.

Damn the bastard for being taller than him. That doesn’t mean Tony is giving up, though. He tries to jump and climb up, but ultimately, whatever he does, he always falls one or two inches short of touching his mug.

Other-Tony has the gall to innocently smile down at him with these freakish blue eyes. In terms of looks this Tony has really been favoured by the gods; black, shiny hair, the bluest eyes, tall and muscular. Not that Tony himself his bad-looking. It’s just that he can’t help but think that in terms of looks, he just… falls short. (Literally.)

He’s not so sure whether other-Tony has been particularly favoured by fortune otherwise, though. He seems just as intelligent (if not more) as himself, and he has the aura of a man who is used to give commands and expect others to obey them. He refuses to talk about anything, though. He made a few vague suggestions, but stubbornly keeps quiet about the Avengers and, Tony has noticed, about Steve in particular. Tony desperately wants to know, but he also has a hunch that out of the two of them, this other-Tony is the more stubborn and deceptive one.

“I might give it to you,” other-Tony offers suddenly.

“Yeah?” Tony asks, still trying to grab it.

“I’ll promise to give it to you… hmmm, what could you do for me?,” other-Tony muses, easily dodging Tony’s attacks. “How about… how about a kiss?”

Tony stops trying to get the mug into his possession by sheer force of will, and stares unbelievingly at this strange version of himself.

“What?” other-Tony asks with a raised eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about it? Kissing another version of yourself? See it as a scientific challenge!”

Tony knows what other-Tony is doing. They’re different in many ways, he’s come to realise that in the few days since other-Tony suddenly appeared here and made himself at home in his tower. But they’re still the same in essence, they know very well how the other one is working. And other-Tony knows he will accept the dare.

So he doesn’t fight, he doesn’t discuss, he leans in and kisses this other version of himself on the mouth. It’s a little strange, in that way that he knows he shouldn’t be doing this, but it also feels pretty good. And somehow very, very familiar. Gentle. Loving.

When they part, other-Tony smiles down on him, but his smile is sad somehow. He reaches out and rubs one of Tony’s cheeks with his thumb.

“Let me make you a new cup,” he says, and walks over to the coffee machine.

Tony, obviously, lets him.


	2. Safety Blanket

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 616!Tony wakes from a nightmare in the middle of the night.

Tony woke up suddenly, breathing heavily and feeling disoriented. He couldn’t remember what kind of dream he’d just had, all he knew was that it had been something bad. Something he definitely didn’t want to remember. His back prickled with tension and something that felt too much like fear.

He sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes. He had been sleeping very deeply the past few days, and yet he didn’t feel any more energetic than he had when he arrived here (which was not at all). This had been the fist actual nightmare he’d had. But with the pressure of needing to find a way to return home as soon as possible constantly in the back of his mind, he was simply unable to relax. And the strange Tony of this universe didn’t make it better.

That strange other self currently curled up in bed next to him.

It had been weird, meeting him. He was smaller, and with his big, dark eyes he somehow reminded Tony of a tiny, fluffy animal. The personality certainly was a match, demanding and taking up way too much space for the relative size of his body.

But he was also softer than Tony himself, and that shocked him a bit. This other Tony had a loose mouth, and it was hard to get him to shut up. But after ten annoying minutes, Tony had realised that this Tony’s mouth, just like his own, could not be trusted. All the while telling Tony to fuck off, get out of his tower, he had already been organising a room for Tony to stay in. And when Tony had reluctantly confessed that he wouldn’t be able to sleep on his own, he had given him a place in his own bed without a single question.

Too soft. Much too soft.

Tony didn’t want to imagine what kind of trials were still waiting for this Tony, and he found himself wishing he could protect him from all of it. It was an urge he knew only too well by now, and it was one that usually lead straight to disaster.

His counterpart suddenly stirred in his sleep before slowly opening his eyes in the semidarkness.

“Can’t sleep?” other-Tony mumbled, still half asleep.

“Don’t mind me,” Tony whispered back.

“But I do, d’mmit,” other-Tony replied, pulling a face. “You were thinking so loud, you woke me up.”

“Genius doesn’t care about the time,” Tony tried to joke. The joke fell as flat as his smile.

“Fucking liar,” other-Tony called him out on his bullshit, blinking up at him, clearly awake now.

“Need a hug?” he suddenly continued.

“I… what?” Tony asked, gaping a little.

“Well, they say hugs have all kinds of wonderful effects, so I figured you could maybe use one,” other-Tony flippantly explained, sitting up and holding out his arms. “Cm’ere.”

Tony hesitated for a moment, staring at his other self. _Too soft_ , he sighed to himself, wrapping his own arms around his smaller frame and carefully placing his head on other-Tony’s shoulder.

“See?” other-Tony asked, gently stroking his back. “Feels good, right?”

Then he slowly started sliding to the side, until they both dropped back onto the bed.

“Think you can sleep now?” he asked.

“Mhm,” Tony only replied, his nose buried in the crook of other-Tony’s neck, eyes already drooping.

“Good,” other-Tony said, not stopping to gently pet him until he had long fallen asleep.

Tony dreamt of birds.


	3. A Little Bird

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because I'm an idiot who doesn't re-read what I've already written, this one is irritatingly similar to the drabble I've written in Chapter 2. Erm, I'm really sorry about that? My excuse is that I have a horrible memory.

A large, warm hand petted his sweaty hair, pushing it gently out of his face. “Hey, little bird.”

Tony would have protested, insisting that he definitely wasn't a _little_ bird, if any bird at all, but all that came out of his mouth was incoherent garbling.

“That bad, huh,” other-Tony said with a tiny sigh, retreating and leaving Tony to stew in his own juices.

He hated being sick. It wasn't just the pain and the fever that bothered him, it was also the nightmares. Especially the nightmares. He had them even at the best of times, but his fever-addled brain made them just that bit more realistic and terrifying. And the more sick he was, the more reality and dream blurred together.

Before other-Tony had found him lying in his bed, he'd already been visited by Obie and the Ten Rings. His skin was still prickling with the terror of seeing them stand right here, in his bedroom. A sight he wouldn't be able to let go of very quickly.

Tony closed his eyes, feeling tears well up in his eyes. He _really_ hated being sick. 

A moment later, the bed dipped again and a warm body moved into his space. The relief of a cold washcloth on his forehead was both sudden and long overdue. Tony murmured his thanks.

“You look horrible,” other-Tony informed him matter-of-factly. “And you need to eat. Do you think you can eat something?”

Tony wanted to huff and say that  _he_ was just as bad, both of them living on a mostly coffee-based diet. How other-Tony had ever managed to get so much taller than him was a mystery to Tony, really. It seemed unfair, somehow. 

“Hey, don't ignore me,” other-Tony called out, patting his cheek lightly. “Do you think you can eat?”

Tony wasn't sure if he would be able to stomach any food at the moment, but he had eaten for the last time quite a while ago. He couldn't even remember what he had eaten last. Trying to eat at least a few spoonfuls of soup sounded like an excellent idea. Tony tried to voice his agreement, but it sounded horribly weak and croaking even in his own ears.

“Good,” other-Tony praised. “Wait for me, I'll be right back.”

With another absent-minded pat on Tony's head, other-Tony left the room and his residing body heat quickly faded. Tony buried deeper into his blankets and tried not to feel too much like an abandoned pet.

He probably failed.

* * *

 

His very odd counterpart had barely managed to eat more than a few bites of food before he had fallen asleep exhaustedly.

Honestly, Tony was worried. But other-Tony's brilliant A.I., JARVIS (Tony was highly intrigued by the sheer ingenuity of him), had assured him that while other-Tony was certainly sick, it wasn't anything life-threatening. With some extended rest and the standard 'sick person care package,' he would be up and about in no time.

Tony was sure that that was the truth, but the sight of other-Tony in his bed, exhausted and weak, made something twist in his stomach uncomfortably. Technically, this Tony was older than he was. But there was something there, a lightness that made him deeply jealous. Like a petulant child that had caught a little bird and refuses to let it go, even though it knows it might get hurt that way.

He'd seen other places and other Tonys before. Old Tonys and young ones, and there had been many worlds where his counterpart had never existed, or had been long dead already (killed, most often). He had even had the misfortune of meeting an evil version of himself, something he hoped to avoid in the future. 

But this one here was in a way very similar to himself. He'd suffered and made others suffer, that much Tony could see. Physical and mental scars, they were both there, as well as a multitude of hurts that would never quite heal. But there was also something that this Tony had, something that--

Something that had been broken inside him a long time ago.

And he couldn't help but be irresistibly drawn to it.

With a sigh, he let himself drop onto the mattress, gathering the shivering bundle of blankets in his arms. Another thing to protect. He smiled to himself, finding humour in the irony of that statement.

When he slept, for once, he dreamt about flying.

He hadn't done that for a very long time.


	4. Mirrors

Tony watched quietly as his counterpart was fiddling with a motherboard he had found in some corner of the workshop, turning it around in his hands idly, taking it apart rather than actually doing something with it. Tony himself had been working on some improvements on the suit (that had really suffered in the last battle), but Other-Tony’s presence had eventually proved enough of a distraction to prevent him from getting into the “zone” where everything was numbers and symbols and the next discovery. So instead, he’d taken to watching whatever Other-Tony was currently doing.

“Why are you still here?” Tony asked into the silence of the workshop. It was too quiet, really, he noticed, none of his usual music blasting through the loudspeakers. Usually J.A.R.V.I.S. would turn it on for him without prompting.

Other-Tony looked up for one moment, before turning back to the motherboard nonchalantly. “I needed a bit of a distraction. And there are too many people in the tower. You workshop is the only place where people aren’t constantly coming and going, and I think I prefer that.”

“Can you stop deliberately misunderstanding my questions and just give me a clear answer?” Tony shot back. “Why are you still here,  _ in this dimension _ ? There’s gotta be a way to get you back. Go talk to Reed or something.”

Other-Tony sighed quietly, but showed no inclination to give him an answer. 

Seriously, Tony was getting somewhat… frustrated. Other-Tony had arrived here, made some vague comments, inserted himself smoothly into the daily life at the tower, and never said a peep about what had happened to bring him here in the first place. While he showed a clear interest in Tony’s suits and explained to him how they differed from his own inventions, he showed no inclination to ever use one or even tinker with one, not even to satisfy his own curiosity (which, if this Tony was anything like him, he must have been burning with). He was cordial to all of the residents at the tower, and perfectly nice around Pepper and Rhodey, but he also maintained a careful distance to everyone but himself. 

It was odd, to say the least. And it put him somewhat on edge. 

Just what was going on?

Other-Tony sighed again. “I’m sorry if I’m bothering you. You’ve done me a great service, accommodating me without asking anything of me. Quite big of such a little man.” He finished that sentence with a teasing smile. 

It was an obvious change of topic, and Tony let it happen, puffing up and declaring Other-Tony to be entirely wrong. He let it happen, again, just like he had let it happen at least ten times before that. 

But Pepper and Rhodey had started watching them with worry poorly hidden in their eyes, and he knew that it wouldn’t take too long before they would take him aside and tell him that something needed to be done. That things couldn’t carry on like this endlessly. 

Tony, for all intents and purposes, was tempted to try. 

 

* * *

 

 

Business meetings sometimes happened whether you wanted them to happen or not, so Tony had unwillingly gone and made nice with people that he found completely uninteresting and phenomenally boring. He couldn’t stop the deep sigh of relief once he was finally released from their clutches, and returned to the tower feeling both drained and very hungry. 

His first objective was to put something edible in his mouth, but after food had been taken care of, he slunk off to his workshop, avoiding the excited voices that came from the living room area (some Avenger hatchlings must have come for a visit). After today’s meeting, he needed a few minutes on his own, to really be able to breathe. 

What he found in his workshop was not silence, but Other-Tony, standing in front of the display of his armours, looking at them with a intense expression. 

He must have obviously heard Tony enter the workshop, but there was no sign of acknowledgement. He steadily held onto the tabletop he was leaned against, studying the suits. 

Tony wished his counterpart had brought one of his own suits with him. He’d have loved to compare them, see where their different experiences had taken them into different directions. 

 

Then, Other-Tony finally broke the silence.

“I can’t go back.”

Tony looked at him, but his face showed no expression. Just the same analytical look with which he continued to take Tony’s suits apart mentally.

“I have made a mistake,” Other-Tony continued. “I tried to fix things, and I broke them even further. I tried again, and again, and in the end, I destroyed us all. I can’t go back.”

Other-Tony finally moved, putting his face into his hands. 

“I cannot bear the thought of returning. To a place that is not my own any longer. I have destroyed it with my own two hands.”

Tony could see that his hands were shaking. So this was the truth. Or was it?

He walked towards Other-Tony and waited until he raised his head. His eyes were red-rimmed, and, for once, the exhaustion was written plainly over his handsome features. He obviously hadn’t been sleeping much lately.  _ Nightmares. _

“I only have one question,” Tony eventually said. “Did you destroy them, or did you simply fail to save everyone?”

“I-”

“I know myself. What are you trying to protect me from?”

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](http://kurowrites.tumblr.com). ^_^


End file.
